


Waltz of Warm Winds

by ImJustNutty



Series: Things That Go Bump In Your Sleep [1]
Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: F/M, Post canon, not crack pairings i promise, not just me it's lailah and zaveid too, romance is hard when you haven't dated anyone for a thousand years, spoilers for ending of zestiria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustNutty/pseuds/ImJustNutty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the many years that follow the start of Sorey's slumber, Lailah gets to work with as many new Shepherds as she can. Even after a thousand years, she doesn't know everything. The only other person who knows this better than she does is the only other person who's lived about as long as she has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waltz of Warm Winds

Lailah didn’t look a day over three hundred, but sometimes she felt as though the additional seven hundred or so years weighed on her like a physical burden, tugging at her skin.

Not that it would ever happen for another few thousand years, thankfully. But it did feel as such, especially right then as she stared at yet another silent tombstone.

It had been so, so long since Sorey had gone into his dreamless slumber. A little less since Rose had passed. And slightly less than that since her successor did. And a teensy bit less than _his_ successor, in turn. How many had it been since Sorey? She traced a hand over the letters on the stone. This would be the sixth one, she supposed.

She remembered all of them, of course. She remembered every single Shepherd she had mentored, from the dawn of the Age of Calamity. Her memory wasn’t perfect, of course, but she would remember the good times. Of those further back, the images were hazy, but she could remember smiles, and warm feelings.

She could also remember the awful ones. Backs turned to pleas for help, to duty, to their own humanity. Michael was the most painful one, of course, made even worse because she wasn’t even around to witness his crimes. He may have had turned his back on her, but she should not have let him. But no matter, that was a long time ago, and Sorey had done more than enough to rectify it with his intentions and actions to back them up.

“I will do my best to live up to Shepherd Jessica’s standards, Lailah,” said one of the new Shepherds resolutely.

Lailah straightened and turned to her five new Shepherds. With a gentle smile, she answered, “I have no doubt you will do as well, if not better.”

“We shall do our best,” murmured another, bowing low. The others followed. Lailah nodded her approval.

With less malevolence in the world, Lailah’s powers of purification, aided by Maotelus’ gradual revival, were greatly augmented. As a result she could support more Shepherds at a time. Most of the other seraphs were attempting to work with at most three at a time now, but there wasn’t time to waste. If she could manage five, she would do it. There was still work to be done, even if they had accomplished much in almost two hundred years.

“Let’s return to Marlind,” suggested Lailah. “We can begin our rounds of purification tomorrow. There must be time for mourning.”

 

 

 

Marlind continued to thrive. The tree flourished, the local economy prospered and Atakk refurbished the art museum and added some relatively modern pieces to his collection. He had been wary of the so-called “post-modernists”, but it had only taken him about five decades before he found one that spoke to his soul. Lailah paid the museum a visit every now and then, but right then she was content to sit beneath the Great Tree, close her eyes, and ponder upon life.

“Hey, Lailah. Fancy meeting you here.”

Her eyes opened. “Zaveid?”

“In the flesh,” he said, grinning down at her.

“As always,” she remarked, trying not to stare at his very much exposed pectorals and biceps and …..okay so perhaps she was staring a little. And he seemed to know this, and enjoy it very much. “It’s been a long time, Zaveid.”

“A long time indeed,” he said, nodding. “About twenty-two years, three months and forty two days, to be exact. Such a long time,” he said, slumping his shoulders dramatically, and stumbling towards her. She sidestepped, and he continued. “And I have been thinking about you _aaaaall_ this time.”

“It’s been twenty one years, because that was when you were mentoring Shepherd Peter, and a month has thirty days, which is less than forty-two.” He made to drape an arm about her shoulders, and she danced away, causing him to lose his balance and stumble unceremoniously into the tree’s trunk. “But,” she added, turning to face him and taking a deliberate step towards him, “I have missed you.” She placed a slender hand to his cheek, and his eyes widened in surprise.

“R-really?” he stuttered. Lailah removed her hand.

“We were having a moment, Zaveid. We really were. But you ruined it,” she said, shaking her head. Zaveid was adorable when flustered, which was unfortunately not as often as she would like. She knew how to press all his buttons, of course, but they all had their duties to attend to.

Zaveid pushed himself from the tree, with his face still slightly red. “W-well, we could…always have another!” He moved to circle his arm about her waist, but she spun out of it and hooked her arm about his arm. He raised an eyebrow.

“That works too,” he said, with a genuine smile that sent a warm feeling through Lailah. They began walking through the dark streets of Marlind, paths illuminated only by the stars and the lamps. “So, what happened to Shepherd Jessica?”

“She passed on, after a long and arduous journey.” Lailah pursed her lips. “Admittedly with some of it undoing the damage she’d done herself.”

“You wrote me about it, I think. Sixteen years ago?” Zaveid muttered. Lailah exchanged letters with most of the other seraphs from their journey with Sorey, in addition to the letters she wrote to the other seraphs with powers of purification. Zaveid was always the one who replied the fastest, which was odd. She could hardly imagine him being the type who could sit down for more than five minutes at a time to write. Yet his letters were long and detailed, albeit slightly messy.

“Yes, when she…became a hellion herself.”

“That was quite the setback.”

Lailah’s face was blank. “Yes.”

Zaveid placed a large hand over her own that clutched his arm. She looked down, and only then realised her fingers had tightened about his arm. She loosened them, feeling fingernail marks dug into his skin. Before she could apologise, he grinned at her.

“She did her best after that, and she brought up those other protégés to take over, right?” He turned and swept an arm out before him, addressing the empty road. “From one Shepherd to five in a single generation, I’d say she did her part.”

“As did you,” Lailah added quickly. “You’ve come a long way from refusing to be my Sub Lord to taking on the mantle of the powers of purification yourself.”

“Well, what can I say? The ladies like a man with initiative,” he said, flipping his long hair.

Lailah chuckled. “At least you finally got something right about women’s preferences.”

Zaveid sighed heavily. “Now if only I had some ladies as Shepherds. For some reason the ones I keep mentoring are men.”

“They aren’t half bad looking too,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “The one from about fifty years ago, he’d definitely been staring at you quite a—“

“Now, now, Lailah, let’s keep our fantasies to a minimum here. I have a track record of purely women and intend to maintain that.”

“A record of zero can be easily altered.”

“Ouch, Lailah. That hurt.”

“So, is that what brings you to Marlind?”

Zaveid’s smile faded instantly, and he looked away. “Yes, well, my current Shepherd’s mother is …dying from illness, and he insisted we returned.”

Lailah bit her lip. “Is…is he taking it well?”

Zaveid didn’t reply for a while, and then he inhaled deeply and looked up at the stars. “I can purify him if things go south.”

Zaveid had his way of talking to people, and Lailah knew that if he couldn’t do anything, this must have been a particularly severe case. Lailah once thought that with her gentle ways and soothing words she could ease anyone and be the mentor she had to be, but everyone had their limits. When that limit was reached, nothing could be done. They both knew this, and Zaveid had seen it happen too many times in his own life, having put down so many of his own comrades. They slowed their pace to a stop, and still he gazed at the stars.

“Do you think the stars are the souls of the departed, as the old tales say?” he said, so softly she could barely hear.

No, she didn’t, because she liked to think that they were free to roam instead of being locked in their constellations to watch over everyone, with the responsibility of granting wishes and guiding lives. But she didn’t say anything, and instead she carefully unhooked her arm from his and turned to circle both arms about him. She felt him stiffen as she embraced him gently, feeling his warm shoulder against her cheek and his heartbeat against hers. His arms wrapped around her and he hugged her too. Was Lailah supporting him, or was Zaveid the one holding her up? Who could know?

They held each other there in the dark for a long time, a moment in their respective eternities, a memory engraved in stone.

 

 

Lailah’s self-instituted schedule for performing the rounds of purification about the continent required her to leave early the next morning. It would not have been right for her to delay it at the last minute just so she could stay with Zaveid as he waited with his Shepherd, but the thought did cross her mind. Before she left she went to his room at the inn, but he hadn’t been there. She stamped out the feelings of disappointment that rose within her, and went to meet her own Shepherds.

 

 

His next letter was as long as always, but half of the words had been messily crossed out. Half the paper was soaked in black ink from the cancellations, but Lailah managed to glean that the Shepherd had not turned into a hellion, things were going well, and that he missed her. Enough to write that about thirty times, except twenty eight of those were hastily scribbled out.

She replied that she missed him too. She left the letter with the innkeeper, and her company pressed on to the Pearloats Pastures the next day.

 

 

 

_To the most beautiful Lailah, the most delightful of flowers, the blossom of my heart,_

_I met Mickey-boy today. He’s doing well, aiding in the flood-relief efforts from the recent monsoons in the northern areas. He says he’s sorry for not being able to write, all the paper’s wet. I told him off for you, because there’s no excuse for a water seraph to not be able to remove all the water from some old paper. He’s ~~a lazy rat who~~ a good lad who ~~wants me to be his personal scribe pshhhh~~ wants you to know that he’s fine and that the Shepherds in the region led by the seraphs Gloria and Jereth are productive. He only teared up a little bit when I mentioned Sorey’s name, which is a vast improvement. _

_It has been approximately 83 days since we last met. Would you happen to be in Lastonbell within the next couple of months? They’re selling limited edition tea flavoured chiffon cakes there. I’d love to buy you one ~~because I’ve bought myself about three hundred and I’m losing my well defined muscles~~_

_You probably heard from Edna that she’s going to join Mikleo with the monsoon efforts. In case you didn’t, Edna’s going to join Mikleo with the monsoon efforts._

_(address your next letter to Ladylake. Trouble in the nobility. Again.)_

_Zaveid ~~the great~~_

__

__

_Dearest Zaveid,_

_With much regret, I write this from Zaphgott Moor, surrounded by hellions. I’m asking one of the normin to deliver this letter to the nearest traveller because this is slightly more complicated than expected._

_Don’t be silly. Mikleo hasn’t cried about Sorey in decades now._

_You can treat me to cake next year. Alternatively, tell Mikleo to learn the recipe. He might well do a better job of it._

_I w_

(The rest of the letter is burned off at this point, and the normin messenger attached a note stating that it was due to a hellion attack)

 

 

_Most beloved Lailah,_

_Are you alright? I didn’t get the rest of your letter. It ended after “I w”. “I weep with longing for I can’t see your beautiful visage, Zaveid my love”? “I wish you were here to hold me in the long and lonely nights”?_

_In all seriousness, if you need my help, I’ll be right over. ~~My last Shepherd just died on me.~~_

_Shepherd Ivan has passed on. It was during a difficult battle. ~~Idiot wouldn’t listen to me~~ He fought valiantly. ~~I would like to retire from having dumbasses as my Shepherds~~ I’m taking a brief vacation to purify hellions on my own. _

_Please reply to Ladylake again if you need me._

_Zaveid_

_Lailah,_

_Are these letters reaching you or nah. Should I be sending them to every inn._

_I was kidding about…whatever I wrote. I can’t remember what I wrote. If it was offensive, I’m sorry. It’s been months._

_Zaveid_

_(Now I’m in Goddodin. They’re moving out for good. Unsustainable agriculture and all that.)_

_Lailah, Fethmus Mioma, Lady of the Lake,_

_Zaveid humbly requests a reply_

_Zaveid is going to organise a search party for you_

_His new Shepherd, Rose (she’s nothing like the original. Less thorns, this one.) agrees with me and is willing to look for you. She’s a big fan, having read Mickey-boy’s accounts of our travels. She wants your signature._

_You’d better be there to sign her copy of the Celestial Record Part Two for her._

_Zaveid_

Lohgrin had recovered and fallen multiple times throughout the past two hundred years, due to the pure unsustainability of maintaining a population in the middle of the desert with few resources and little manpower. Still, humans were tenacious and eager to hold on to where rich history and culture once thrived. Unlike those in Goddodin, where the controversy over the elixir had long been forgotten. Those there had moved to more forgiving lands, where winds were calmer and the ground easier to tend to.

Zaveid had spent many years in his past at Lohgrin, with his old friends and travel companions. Were they all dead? Zaveid counted them off in his head. When he found them again, as dragons or almost-dragons, he couldn’t be sure who was who. Had he fought and killed his own old friends? Or were they just some other turned seraph? Either way, he had killed a lot of former seraphs. They were bound to have been someone’s friend at some point. He’d learned to harden his heart.

“It’s almost been a year since the Seraph Lailah reported back. The citizens report strange sightings near Trizolde Cave, although the seraphs here have made sure none of them ventured close enough to suffer casualties from the hellions there.” Zaveid’s current Shepherd, Rose, reported. She was a descendent of one of the Sparrowfeathers, apparently. She showed initiative and tenacity like her namesake. Unlike said namesake, however, this Rose was as stiff as a stone statue and just about as fun.

“Good job, Rose,” he said, trying for a smile. “So Trizolde Cave, huh.” He leaned heavily against the wall. “Why didn’t anyone else check it out?”

“Perhaps we should wait till tomorrow. You walked the whole way here, refusing to reside within me, and also you are unusually tense.” Rose tilted her head. “You aren’t fit for the upcoming battles.”

“I’m not that old, kid. I can hold my own,” he said, pushing himself from the wall, grinning half-heartedly. Zaveid adjusted the hat on his head, and started marching toward the main gate of Lohgrin. “Besides, if we wait any longer, we…”

“…will be well prepared and more level minded,” finished Rose, moving in front of Zaveid, firm hand on his arm. “Please listen to me and rest.”

Zaveid looked at her little hand on his arm. Sighing heavily, he turned away from the door. His pact denied him from going on, even if Rose’s words were soft and gentle. “How can I refuse a lovely lady’s request?”

 

 

 

It didn’t take too long before they encountered levels of malevolence stronger than Zaveid had felt in more than fifty years. Rose squinted into the purple miasma, cloak billowing in the unseen forces that buffeted them.

“This might be tricky. We’d better be on our guard,” muttered Rose, drawing her sword. Zaveid raised his eyebrows. He’d expected her to be at least a little fazed. They lived in relatively peaceful times with malevolence this thick almost unseen.

“Way ahead of you, m’lady,” he replied, pendulum in hand. They continued on, and before long a hellion bat swarm swooped towards them from round the corner. “Rose!” he yelled, swinging the pendulum forward. She darted to the side to allow for his attack, then spun to avoid one of the bats diving toward them. Her sword followed behind it, slicing into it and eliminating it in a single blow. Zaveid applauded internally as he started casting a spell. Rose danced around him, defending him as he concentrated, and right before he completed his incantation she leapt to the side.

“Horizon Storm!” With that triumphant cry, the bats were blasted away. Rose gave him a curt nod.

“We’d best be wary,” she said, before continuing on her march. Zaveid grinned.

“You and I make a really good team. It’s like we’ve got…chemistry.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, which was a wasted effort. Rose didn’t even turn around. He wondered if she’d even heard him. She was even better at ignoring him than Edna ever was.

“Look, there’s some kind of light down that corridor,” she muttered monotonously, voice echoing off the cave walls. She started towards it, and Zaveid jogged to catch up to her.

“Hey, stick closer to me, we don’t—“ Before he could finish, there a sudden roaring sound.

“Is it me or does it seem hotter here?” asked Rose. “And don’t say it’s because of you.”

Zaveid squinted at the light in the distance, before leaping forward and shoving Rose behind him. “Get back!” A sudden blast of hot air hit him like a dragon’s maul and shoved him off his feet. Zaveid gasped out in surprise, turning to shield Rose, and they both fell to the ground.

“Could that be Seraph Lailah?” asked Rose, squirming out from under him when the blast had settled. “We must hurry!”

“Well I sure as heck hope it’s not Lailah. I ain’t no water seraph, and those flames of her are hot!” He hoped his voice didn’t betray his concern for her. He pushed himself up and helped Rose up. “Let’s go!”

They ran toward the source, and Zaveid made a wind shield to hide them both as the heat intensified. The narrow cave gave way to a larger high ceilinged cavern, and there awaited a hellion. It looked like a medusa-type, but her tentacles were tinged red and cloaked with flames. And around her were four figures mummified in what looked like sheets of paper.

“Well, shit,” said Zaveid. Looking at Rose, he sighed. “Do you know any water seraphs?”

Rose calmly reached into her pack and picked out a ring. She squinted at it. “No, but I do have about five water-based martial artes. And this ought to boost them.” She slipped it on. “What can you tell me about Lailah?”

The medusa screeched, lunging towards them. “Ranged fire-based artes,” he reported, leaping in the opposite direction from Rose as the ground they stood on exploded in a blast of flame. “Medium ranged melee,” he continued, quickly rolling away as an arc of fire swept past him. “Doesn’t move too fast, but then medusa types tend to move pretty fast so maybe that’s been upgraded.”

Rose stepped to the side and stabbed at a tentacle, partially severing it. The Lailah-hellion screeched and sent a fireball towards her. Rose leapt away, but stumbled over a rock and fell heavily to the floor. “Wirukun Zavie!” shouted Rose, and Zaveid instantly joined with her and blasted the hellion with a strong gust of wind before she could respond.

“Zaveid, you can’t hold back,” hissed Rose, as she started her incantation.

“I’m not holding back,” he lied.

“You can’t hide from me when you’re sitting in my brain, Zaveid. We have to purify her. Even if we have to hurt her first. Cloudburst!” Beams of light burned through the hellion. Before the smoke could clear, a tentacle shot out and struck Rose straight in the chest. Zaveid was knocked right out, rolling along the floor.

“Rose!” he yelled, but he couldn’t see her amidst all the steam that appeared. “Crap, it’s getting way too hot in here.” He stood up, wincing in pain as his leg disagreed with that decision. The medusa lunged at him, and he barely managed to block her attack with the steel wires of his pendulum.

“Lailah,” he gritted out, as he felt his strength giving out. “You still in there, darling?”

She hissed at him, raising another tentacle to strike.

“Okay, perhaps not.” Zaveid pushed away, just as the medusa fell to the floor. Behind her, a young man, cloaked in a Shepherd’s cloak singed at the edges, held a sword that was presently coated in medusa-blood. Zaveid looked around, and saw Rose freeing the mummified figures with her sword. He mentally thanked the Great Lords for giving him such an intelligent Shepherd.

“Seraph, you have the powers of purification?” asked the young man hoarsely. “Lailah, our seraph, she…succumbed after one of the Shepherds was killed.”

“Fall back!” Zaveid instructed, whipping his pendulum forward to knock the hellion down. “She needs to be weakened further. She seems pretty deep in.”

“Get to safety,” urged Rose to Lailah’s freed Shepherds, before running towards the Lailah-hellion. “Zaveid!” she yelled, as she leapt into the air. Zaveid nodded.

“Wirkun Zavie!” they shouted in synchrony, as they fused in midair and unleashed a hail of wind blades. “Sylphestia!” Zaveid tried to ignore the blood curdling screeched as the blades punched their way through Lailah. The moment they landed on the ground, Zaveid tore away from Rose and rushed forward to catch Lailah, un-hellion-ified, as she fell to the ground.

“Lailah!” He laid her gently on the ground, supporting her about the shoulders. Even exhausted, she felt light as a feather. She looked paler than he remembered. Her eyes opened slowly.

“Z-zaveid?”

He closed his eyes and bent over, almost touching foreheads with her. Thank Maotelus she was alive.

“Thank you, Shepherd, and you too, Seraph, for helping us get Lailah back,” said one of Lailah’s Shepherds, stepping forward. She looked like she was about to fall over. “Lailah, let’s get back to Loghrin. Can you still…” Zaveid looked down. She seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness again.

“Huh. I don’t even know how the pact’s all intact and all considering she turned hellion.” Zaveid muttered. “I should be able to carry her back, anyway.” He hoped. He wasn’t sure who was going to carry _him_ if he collapsed.

“In the meantime, maybe tell us how this happened. The amount of malevolence she generated wasn’t exactly normal for the times we’re living in,” said Rose, mouth twisted slightly in a frown.

 

 

 

Lailah awoke in the dark and wondered if she was still in that cave.

Cave. Trizolde Cave. One of her Shepherds had been careless, killed by a hellion. And then, she turned…

Oh no.

“Regret and guilt are powerful emotions.” Zaveid’s voice was soft, soothing, and strangely not entirely unexpected. She turned to see him sitting beside the bed she was in. It was also only then that she realised her hand was lying in his. Lailah tried to push herself up, and Zaveid moved his hand from hers to rest it on her shoulder. “It’s been a long year.” He gave a wry smile. “For me, too. It was sad not having any replies to my letters.”

Lailah stared straight up at the ceiling, wondering whether any of her Shepherds were near enough for her to quickly disappear into one of them to hide. “I overestimated my strength. I thought I could manage five Shepherds….and in the end I lost one.” She felt the tears well up. “Another one.” She covered her eyes with an arm. Why did Zaveid have to be there? Not that she wanted him to leave. But to see her at her worst…

“We all muck up. And I doubt this one was entirely your fault. From what your other Shepherds said, it was partially his foolhardiness.” He sighed. “You mummified your other Shepherds, when you were a hellion. You were trying to protect them from anyone who approached the cave. Your despair never clouded your sense of duty.”

“Humans are young and foolish. They need a guide,” she mumbled behind a tear-soaked sleeve.

“Some more than others, and some, perhaps, don’t really deserve one.” Zaveid’s chair creaked as he turned around, and the bed dipped to the side as he leaned against it, supporting himself with an elbow. “Not all with resonance are destined to be Shepherds.”

“He was so young, Zaveid. So young,” she whispered.

“And we are so old, Lailah. Too old to remember that not everyone is meant to last this long.” The bed squeaked as he moved away from it, and Lailah felt the warmth from his body leave from her side. “Perhaps this sounds cruel, but we lasted this long for a reason, while many others didn’t. We can try our best to keep others alive as long as they can, but we aren’t gods. In the end, humans are frail mortals.” His voice sounded like it was far away.

Lailah dropped her arm from her face. She looked at Zaveid’s back, as he stared out of the inn’s window. She saw the reddened flesh, a clear indication of burns.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around to help.” He turned around. “I should have known. All these years apart from each other, it’s made us forget our own strengths and weaknesses.” Three long strides took him across the room, back to her side. He knelt by her bed. “I should never have left.”

“We only parted ways about fifty years ago,” she murmured, mesmerised by his scarlet irises.

“Too long,” Zaveid said, voice low.

“Perhaps.” Lailah wasn’t sure whether he was moving closer to her, or whether she’d finally managed to push herself up closer to him, but that wasn’t the foremost thing on her mind when she felt his wind chapped lips against hers and suddenly, they were kissing with a fervent need, a deep passion like she hadn’t felt in, _oh_ , possibly a whole millennia. His large warm hand was tangled in her hair, and her arms reached behind him—

“Ouch,” he winced, flinching as her hand brushed across a still-rather raw burn. Lailah opened her eyes, unaware that they’d even been closed, and looked straight into his. Their gazes locked for a moment, and then Zaveid retreated back into his chair, face flushed.

“My, ah, back. It’s still, um, a little burnt. Also, er, sorry. I should…not have done that.” He looked positively ashamed, like a child caught stealing candy.

He _was_ adorable.

Lailah pushed herself upright. Perhaps romance regenerated her. She reached out and placed her hand close to but not touching his shoulder, and cast a healing spell. He shuddered visibly as the burns healed. She slid her fingers across his bare shoulder, and he looked at her, flushing slightly.

“We should, um, maybe continue what we did. Later. I should…speak to my Shepherds. Apologise. Decide what to do next.” She felt her own face burning, and looked down at her lap. Perhaps she had misjudged. A moment of folly, of panic.

Zaveid took her hand off his shoulder, cradling it in his own coarse large palm. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand, and then looked up at her with a soft smile. “Remember to tell them that they’ll be having me and Rose accompanying them. “

 

 

Sorey blinked slowly. And then blinked again. Then he rubbed his eyes with the back of his ungloved hand, and blinked repeatedly. He turned to Mikleo.

“Mikleo, pinch me. Maybe I’m still dreaming in that Maotelus-induced sleep. I dreamed of lots of weird things. I dreamed that you made ice cream out of fish. It was really weird. This one may top that. Pinch me, Mikleo.” He grabbed Mikleo’s hand and pinched the skin on the back of it.

“Ow! What did you do that for, idiot?”

“You wouldn’t pinch me, so maybe you’re dreaming, and I’m in your dream. And basically this is a dream.”

“That doesn’t even marginally make sense, Sorey. You’re not dreaming, I’m not dreaming, _nobody’s_ dreaming. Lailah and Zaveid are indeed holding hands, and sitting in front of you.”

Sorey turned to stare at Lailah and Zaveid, who were, as Mikleo said, holding hands and sitting in front of him. They sat in Mikleo’s (formerly Sorey’s, possibly now going to be Sorey’s again) house in Elysia, a few weeks after Sorey had awoken from his centuries-long slumber. “That has got to be the most bizarre romance.” Sorey pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think I’m getting a headache. This is too much to take in. Give me some time. Do seraphs get headaches? I mean, I’m a seraph now. I think I’m getting a headache. Yep, that’s a headache. Man, Mikleo, next time maybe you should just tell me these things before someone slaps me in the face with the evidence.”

Lailah smiled, leaning against Zaveid’s arm. “He probably thought you wouldn’t believe him.”

“I hardly believed them when they told me,” remarked Mikleo flatly. “Zaveid’s letters to me were literally single sentence scraps of paper.”

Zaveid waved a hand nonchalantly. “As if you’d read them.” Mikleo rolled his eyes instead of bothering to retort. Possibly a sign that he’d matured significantly over the past centuries.

Lailah smiled brightly. “Has Mikleo told you about the time he and Edna dated for about thirty years?”

“Thirty two, to be exact,” added Zaveid, tipping his hat to the side.

There was a stunned silence, with nothing but the sound of the flames crackling in the fireplace. Then there was a dull _slap_ as Mikleo covered his face with his hands. Sorey heard another crack, but that might have been his brain breaking.

“ _WHAT._ ”

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                             

**Author's Note:**

> Did I just imply Mikleo/Edna? Oops. 
> 
> If Berseria happens to really be the prequel to Zestiria and explains more of Lailah and Zaveid's backstories and it turns out I messed up big time, let me reiterate that I do not have the ability of seeing into the future/into Banco's secret Berseria notes.


End file.
